A Spy in the Sands
by navi.fae
Summary: Hawke is hired by the Chantry to investigate a loss of their supplies. But along the way Hawke learns why they should send a spy to do a spy's job. Mistakes abound and distractions galore. Can Hawke finish her mission and keep herself safe. And what about the new temptation she meets in the most unexpected place?
1. Chapter 1

It was a heady affair. Danarius had put out all the best decor and affectations for the night. Truly something the top heads of Tevinter would talk about for some time. Wafts of orange glaze duck and sweet wine filtered through the air. The polite cadence of conversation flowing with the golden glow of the hundreds of candelabras that had been polished specifically for this night. A heady affair indeed. One meant not just to enjoy the company and conversation of the esteemed guests but to also flaunt one's wealth. And Danarius certainly wanted to flaunt tonight.

A new guest sat at his table tonight. A young woman from Ferelden. A mage, so gifted as to come with a letter of recommendation from the First Enchanter of the mage circle in Ferelden himself. Smuggled in from the cruel imposing life that the Circle demanded. She was now free to explore her gifts under her new teacher's tutelage. And explore the new land and sights as well. She drank in all the sights of his grand hall almost as quickly as she did the wine. The high vaulted ceilings threw back the regal whispers of tevinter small talk in waves of sound. The clatter of silverware on orleasian glazed platters gave a chorus to the titillating din.

Wealth was a power Danarius knew well and was not shy to flaunt. He watched closely as this new member of Tevinter ogles at his gross display. With gracious servings of wine poured readily by his impressive guard, the atmosphere was both lavish and intimidating.

Marian Hawke, the mage from Ferelden. Infamous enough to garner a recommendation from the first enchanter of the Fereldan circle himself. Many in Tevinter believed him to be a pile of old bones. Good for little besides sitting on an old chair reading older tomes and delegating the greater part of managing Mage affairs to the ravenous Templars. A puppet on strings held by an imposing order. This little thing must have been special indeed to rattle the old bones enough to smuggle her past the Templars and into their lands.

Her eyes ravaged the hall. Devouring the gold leaf and pearl inlay that handsomely covered most visible surfaces. More for rich display then function, the decor grabbed the young mage's attention as dedicatedly as Danarius had hoped. He gestured to a number of off scene slaves to come and clear the area of the third collection of platters and to introduce the next delectable plates. Orange glazed duck with a mint ganache and chocolate gold leaf. A meal less for its fulfillment and more for its pretentious display. The new mage accepted it greedily. Much to the masters delight.

Another set of eyes regarded the new comer from across the table. Beedy and angry in their shallow depths. Not all were so excited for the newcomer. Where others saw opportunity and novelty, this one saw competition. Watching carefully for any weakness, any social missteps, anything that could be used against this foreign interloper. Sizing her up as two brawlers would do before a fight. Cruel blue, a shade as deep as ice and bespoke of volumes of hard fought battle, she was just another fight, another challenger to beat into the Tevinter sand and leave to bake in the sun. A fork stabbed forcibly into the duck, tearing through the gold leaf with a crinkle.

"It is good to see you fitting in well with the locals so soon, Marian" the host swished his red wine while directing the trivial talk to his guest.

"I am so fortunate to have you accept me as an apprentice, Master Danarius. I hope to exceed all your expectations and do your name honor" crooned the auburn haired girl, tilting her head lightly to catch the candlelight and let it dance across her hair, prettily highlighting her looks while looking deferent to the master of the house.

Danarius chuckled lightly into his glass of wine, almost nearly empty. "With such high esteemed recommendation from the Fereldan circle, I can hardly believe that you will be anything less than spectacular." The dregs of wine swirled the bottom of the glass and an unseen slave stepped forward at the nonverbal queue. Tall and handsome, he stood as both a testament of Danarius' wealth and power. He dutifully poured his master a fresh glass of wine from the impressive bottle in his hands.

Hawke looked on openly, marveling at the beauty and danger in this single being. Danarius kept a close eye on her reaction. It was by far his favorite game to play with new guests: how did they react to his highest guard. Fenris was both a display of danarius' skill as a magister and wealth of a high member of society. As Hawke was no doubt ogling currently, much to the magister's pleasure. His lyrium lines caught the eye as they glinted in the candlelight or his armor, coal black metal adorned with a number of spiny processes to increase their threat, gave some of the most seasoned warriors who had graced this hall apprehension.

And then there was the third catching thing about the elven slave. Something that set him apart from the other guards of the estate. He was handsome. Beautiful in face and body. He could have occupied the house as a body slave if Danarius had not also recognized Fenris' penchant for combat. His shock of white hair was dyed a fire gold in the flickering light.

The new comer appraised the slave with a long look before turning to the owner. "His markings are quite... Remarkable." She finished lamely. At a loss for words due either to the impressive display the slave made or from the wine she had consumed. She sipped her drink slowly, watching Danarius from above the rim.

Danarius was quite pleased with his new apprentice's interest. Fenris was a prideful showing of his mastership over magics, the intricate lyrium lines taking large quantities of blood and gold to adhere to the remarkable slave. Any opportunity to display the elf was one taken.

"Oh yes," the master purred " He is something to behold. Fenris, my personal body guard."

"Indeed." Hawke nodded her head encouragingly. "And those markings. Is that lyrium? That must have taken a large quantity to produce ."

Danarius let out a rounded laugh, cutting off Hawkes line of questioning. "So eager you are to learn! Wait until tomorrow! Tonight is for merriment and celebration!" Danarius gestured for the elf to refill the young women's glass once more before turning to his left to engage another magister in conversation. The subject of which was now looking sullenly into her filled glass. A pair of striking eyes seemed to pierce her from across the table as Hawke looked up. Apparently it was not such a night of merriment for everyone in attendance.

Fenris looked on passively. This dance was one he was familiar with. Danarius often brought out his personal bodyguard for the guests to ogle or squirm at. It was an odd delight for his master and one of the easier tasks for Fenris throughout his day. Just stand, scowl, pour some wine and then fade to the black again. His eyes scanned the room quickly, checking any awns or corners missed before for any dangers. It was habitual at this point. A quick scan. A cursory glance towards any person who could be concealing something. Fenris repressed a sigh at the monotone night. The only ripple in the festivities was the new apprentice. One that Fenris would have to observe later to determine her attitude. A new mage in the house was never a good sign and he would have to take extra precaution around her. At least, until he learned what she was like; was she cruel, delighted in pain, preferred fire or ice, what ticked her off. His eyes glanced warily at Danarius' old apprentice, Hadriana. Would the new girl be better or worse than her? He would have to wait quietly to find out. The floating news that she was a Fereldan Circle mage meant little to the elf. Mages were all alike and were all cruel in their own way. He would have to find out hers.

Marian Hawke quietly excused herself from the table as the party started to quiet down. Three more plates later and about double that in glasses of wine, she stumbled down the expansive mansion led by a timid elf. Slave. She winced at the thought, stumbling a little as the movement threw her off balance. The floor heaved and rolled beneath her feet. Too much wine. She sighed at her misplaced feet. The elf woman looked back worriedly at her. Marian waved her onward. They walked the hallway in silence giving Hawke the time to observe her new lodgings. Expensive and gaudy, Danarius sure liked his baubles. She lifted a finger to trace a painted garden and heard a sharp intake of breath. She looked up and met the eyes of the elf, clearly warning her away from the delicate art. Hawke barely held in a huff of exasperation but lowered her hand. The wine was getting to her. Head dizzy. Making it harder to keep her behavior in check.

Thankfully, her room was just up ahead. The elf woman opened the door for her and was about to ask Hawke is she required any assistance when Hawke waved her away. The door shut with a quiet thud and finally Marian was alone.

She kicked her shoes off, one hitting the far wall with a soft thud, and stumbled further into her living area. The plush carpet felt amazing against her bare feet and her toes curled into the soft fabric. Her eyes looked around the spacious room she was given. Thick stone walls,designed with the Tevinter heat in mind, were adorned with thick velvet tapestries. A roaring fire sat in a magnificent fireplace, staving off the night chill. Hawke assumed that Danarius had had the forethought to send a slave to tend the fire before she retired for the night.

How disgusting. How wretched. Hawke paced to the edge of the bed wrenching her decorative robes and jewelry off, letting them lie haphazardly on the ground. She had not even lived in Tevinter for a week and she already was sick of them. Their gross displays of wealth, flaunting blood magic. Slaves. She flopped onto the silky sheets, hating and loving their rich feel. She turned, half curled on the bed, the wine swirling her head. She had no idea how she was going to do this. Hacking, slashing at enemies, that is what she was good at. This secretive business, was odd. Not like Hawke, more like Varric. She silently cursed the dwarf. Why wasn't he here in her place? He lived and breathed this stuff. But no, Hawke was the mage so Hawke had to go. She turned and groaned into her pillow. It was all Varrics idea anyways, him and his stupid contacts. Hawke ground out a few choice words for her friend before the wine and her heavy body pulled her to sleep.

_Hawke and Varric were strolling through lowtown, looking to any passerby like two friends on a day stroll. They meandered into the chantry lazily, joking about the last nights game of wicked grace. They ascended the stairs of the chantry will few glances their way. Hawke was a common guest in the halls, escorting Leandra and Bethany or meeting with her other companions. The dusty scent of the air was a comforting musk. It wrapped hawke into a familiar blanket. The grand cleric greeted them with a motherly smile. Hawke returned the easy gesture. _

_"You asked for us?"_

_"Yes, though I fear it's not a pleasant thing."_

_"Maybe we should move to a quieter venue, sister?" _

_Elthina led them to her office, a modest room in the back with walls scaled with books. Their papery scent drifted lazily in the sun. The mother sat down achingly into her high backed chair and gestured for her guests to take a seat as well._

_"We've heard distressing news from the Divine. We would like to hire you to investigate for us a most concerning subject"_

_Varric leaned slightly forward at that. Chantry business might make his skin itch but money was a language he knew as well as an old lover. Hawke had had to turn in a few favors to get the dwarf to accompany her but his advice would be invaluable. When the revered mother had first approached Hawke with the notion of a job from the Chantry Hawke was apprehensive to say the least. She wanted to hear out what the revered mother would say for her sake. Though Hawke did not want to go into this alone, ergo, her close friend and business savant Varric had been coerced to accompanying her. _

"_So the Chantry wants to hire a rag tag group of ruffians to sort out it's affairs? What type of affairs is the church getting into exactly?" _

_The reverend mother flinched at his forwardness. "The Grand Divine is concerned about a loss of materials that the church holds dear."_

"_By materials, you mean lyrium?" Varric's statement lifted at the end like a question but the steely look in his eye left no room for doubt. Hawke thanked her stars for the forethought to bring Varric along. _

_The Revered Mother sighed. "Yes, lyrium. The Chantry controls the bulk of lyrium shipments within Thedas. Both for the care of the mage circles and the Templar Order. Our control of lyrium is vital for the wellbeing of Thedas. Lyrium is a dangerous substance. If shipments are being taken, the most divine feels that we must investigate."_

_Varric put his hands up in mock surrender. "You don't have to convince me Revered Mother. I am only looking to insure this job is safe for my associate." Varric gestured widely at Hawke. Always trying to rile people up. Hawke understood it was a tactic by the dwarf to see what people may slip up and say when they are not guarding their words as well. It did not make it any easier to converse with the dwarf when he wanted some information out of you._

_The Grand Cleric sighed tiredly "I will not lie. We are concerned this task will be very dangerous. We cannot guarantee your safety in this regard." Hawke nearly scoffed. Guarantee her safety? No one could guarantee their safety. No one had. Not when she was a mercenary for her first year in Kirkwall and not now with whatever jobs Hawke took on. She could not judge the mother for her words though. Elthinia was not accustomed to Hawke's life. Hawke should not judge the revered mother for her naievete. _

"_I'm certain whatever task it is, I am up for it." Hawke leaned into her words, letting a false kinship thread them. Her mother, Leandra was a chantry patron and would not take it kindly should Hawke be mean to the Grand Cleric. It was of no consequence that Hawke had decided to give the Chantry some of her time. She felt a debt to the organization for the aid and comfort they had given her mother through the tough times. A job here or there was nothing She smiled good naturedly to the older woman. "Shall we get to the details of this excursion then?" Elthinia nodded and began explaining the job._

_Apparently, the Chantry had begun noticing a loss of lyrium in their shipments from the dwarven mines. A large enough amount went missing that called for action from the Most Holy herself. They traced the lost cargo as best they could and deduced that the pilfered goods were being moved into the Tevinter Imperium. Unfortunately, they met a roadblock there as the Imperium Chantry and Andrastian Chantry were at odds with each other. When the Most Holy approached the Imperium Chantry about information pertaining to the missing lyrium they were stonewalled. They could not risk an international incident and answer with a great force against the other nation. Not when they had no other information about the whereabouts of the stolen shipments. They had resorted to a number of subterfuge attempts within the Imperium and, although they were not able to find the lost lyrium itself, they were able to find the master behind the operation. Magister Danarius. Well connected within the Imperium. Well protected. And possessing large amounts of power. He posed a greater complication to the Chantry as they could not simply send assassins after the head of the operation and hope for success. Elthinia hiccuped slightly at the mention of assassins, Hawke's ears had caught the slight sound. They had to find the operation itself and implode it before additional lyrium was lost. In the time it took for the magister to rebuild his project, the Chantry could fortify their lyrium shipments and guard against more loss. Hawke was to infiltrate his home as an apprentice to the magister and find out any information about his operation. She would go in with a letter of recommendation from a circle's First Enchanter. Her story was that she had so impressed this First Enchanter with her skills as a mage that the First Enchanter had colluded to smuggle her into the Imperium to pursue her craft without the Chantry's oversight._

"_That story sounds like one I'd spin. And that's not a good sign." Varric interjected. _

"_You're right, but the Imperium is pompous. The more outrageous a story is that exalts a mage's ability, the more likely they will believe it and indulge it. And it is the best way for us to be certain that Magister Danarius will accept the apprentice." _

"_How do you know he'll even accept?" _

"_He already has." Elthinia leaned back against her chair. Her eyes looked older than when they had begun. "I am not a strong supporter of this plan. My faith with the Maker tells me these are questionable tactics. But we cannot risk such dangerous materials in the hands of someone so." she paused "So foul." Elthinia swallowed. Hawke felt weary simply listening to the plot the grand cleric laid out for her. There were so many holes, so many ways it could go wrong. But the most obvious one Hawke had to voice._

"_I am no spy." She started haltingly "I have no experience with making nice with evil men to steal their secrets. I'm better at hurting them. Give me an enemy to face head on and I can do it. But this?" Hawke gestured with her hands. "This isn't me." _

_Varric breathed out noisily "You're right there, Hawke. I would be a better spy. But I lack the special touch you have. It would be impossible for me to get into the estate with that story you guys have cooked up." Varric wiggled his fingers at the words "magic touch" alluding to Hawke's fade given abilities. _

"_What if Varric went with you?" Elthinia asked, quietly, eyes low as if searching her desk for the next few words "He could guide you from the outside, give you advice on how to survive and find the information. He could also act as our liaison. You would only have to find a way to pass information on to him and he could send it to us. It would be vastly safer than trying to pass it directly to us at least." Varric looked interested at this response. _

"_Now you're talking sister. Will my help, Hawke has a back up plan and a guide. A teacher on the inside and a teacher on the outside." Varric nearly snapped his fingers at the plan. Hawke was beginning to feel swept up into the work. She was apprehensive for the job. But the more Varric and Elthinia talked and fleshed out the addition of her partner, the more she leaned forward as well. Besides, what was another job that put her into harms way? This was her life. This was what she did. And she was still alive so far. She was good at what she did._

"_Now, what about that payment?" The merchant prince smiled predatorily at this. She was good at what she did and Varric was the best at what he did. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A week had past since the grand feast to welcome Hawke. And she was growing impatient. Just how long did it take to find the information they needed and could leave the forsaken country? She grit her teeth against her growing agitation. It was no use. Varric had warned her before entering the estate that jobs like these could take months or years. Though Hawke had held the slim hope that this one was to be an exception. A large part of the problem was how rarely she even saw the master of the house. After that first introduction it seemed almost like he had disappeared off the face of Thedas. She had tried to snoop out the reclusive magister only to find herself lost in the expansive estate or turned away by apologetic elves. Slaves. Her mind quietly corrected her. If she was to succeed, she had to adjust her way of thinking to those around her. Another pearl of wisdom Varric had passed on with much grandeur. This was proving difficult though, since nearly everyone she met fell into one of two categories: either completely repulsive mages or quietly scared slaves. She detested the first and was not allowed to become the second, for the sake of the mission.

She sighed quietly over the book she was exploring. It seemed as though Danarius, with how little she saw him, prefered to guide his apprentices with self study. His expansive library was open to her and while it did include a large number of tomes Hawke had never even heard of before, a large amount of them covered various blood magic techniques. She passed over those books. Hawke was willing to indulge herself with learning new magics while here in Tevinter but she would never join the likes of blood mages. Her father had been very clear what his opinion on them were and Hawke agreed with his world view. She would align herself with the other magisters for the sake of the mission but she refused to dabble into the forbidden art.

She pushed the dusty book to the side, having lost all motivation to continue decoding its works. A large part of her frustration came also from the simple fact that she was lonely. It had been over a week since she had last spoke to Varric, even longer since she had spoken with any of her other companions. And the estate was proving to be poor in friendly faces. Hadriana, the other apprentice, had not even spoken more than two words to Hawke since her arrival. Hawke was beginning to wonder if the other woman was trying to purposefully avoid her. And the other members of the estate, the slaves, would only cower or answer quietly to any attempts of conversation Hawke had attempted. Hawke was not accustomed to this. She had always had someone by her side, an ally, a friend, family. Tevinter offered her none of that. She sighed quietly into the dusty air.

A quiet footfall by the door roused her from her thoughts. She turned to face the intrusion. A quiet young elf stood in the doorway. "Master Danarius requests your presence, my lady." It was a whispered order, lacking in cadence that was undoubtedly beat from the slave at a younger age. Hawke smiled at the elf. Kindness was a rare thing in these halls and magisters seemed to have a limited supply to share. Hawke understood that she should copy the magisters' behavior but could not condone the fear in the slave's eyes whenever she tried. So Hawke just filed it away as one of her odd Fereldan quirks. She should be allowed some of them at least.

She pushed away from the table and stood on to tired legs. Maybe now DAnarius would take his mantle as teacher and Hawke could learn some things. Though she was not interested in his expertise of blood magic, she found it bizarre that her teacher did not really show any penchant to teaching. The duo walked the halls together silently. It would be much easier to find out what happened with the lost supplies the Chantry was reporting if she had more access to Danarius as well, Hawke mused. That one elf stood out in her mind. She was almost certain those markings were imbued with lyrium somehow. Elven markings were not so bright nor pigmented. Perchance there was a relation between him and the loss shipments. Hawke was so lost in thought over this that she barely noticed when her guide had stopped at a large oak door. She shook herself from her thoughts and looked toward the elf for guidance. The slave merely studied the floor. Without much other prompting, Hawke strode to the door and placed her hands against the heavy surface. It gave way to her push and led out into a large expansive room. She let out a small gasp.

It was a massive room. poorly furnished in comparison to the rest of the estate. Somehow Hawke had never stumbled onto this bizarre place in her previous explorations. She could not even place where Danarius had fit the size. She stepped forward onto a landing of sorts. Two stairs on either side of her led down into the belly of the room. From what she could see, the floor down there was brown, cheap, at odds with the rich marble she stood on now or the plush carpet that adorned her bedroom. Danarius and Hadriana could be seen talking at the far end of the room. Hawke made her way down the steps to meet up with them. She placed a hand lightly on the railing, trying to support her trembling emotions as she entered this unfamiliar territory. She looked up and down and everywhere, trying to memorize the location. There were no windows in this room, instead being lit by hanging globes that exuded their own yellow light. The ceiling looked vaulted and far up as she kept walking down. She began to feel like she was walking into the belly of the earth in this strange place. Her clothed feet hit the floor rather surprisingly. It was cheap material. Dirt covered the entire expanse of the hall. She looked up in surprise at Danarius and Hadriana, who were now making their way towards her.

"Isn't it lovely?" Danarius questioned teasingly. Hawke almost laughed from the tension. This room was by far the least gaudy of the master's collection. And Hawke had a suspicion that he knew it,

"Oh quite. I really like what you've done with the floor. Homey." Hawke quipped. It earned her a guffaw from the older man and a glare from the woman.

"This is my sparing chamber. I find it works best for easy clean up and to work with the elements. Though the dust is sadly hard to clean out from my clothes." Danarius swatted at imaginary stains on his robes at this remark. He swept a hand out towards his other apprentice. "I hear you have been making good use of my books." Hawke inclined her head at this. Danarius did not let her comment though and continued on. "I would like to see how you compare to my apprentice, Hadriana. It seems like a good way to access how to best teach you." They had matching steel eyes at that. Hadriana looked like she was about to rip Hawke's throat out. Not from malice but from a predatory desire to kill. Hawke felt a shiver run up her spine. How far was this first match supposed to go? To the death? First blood? She turned to Danarius to voice her question but halted at what she saw. He looked almost overjoyed to a cruel capacity at the prospect of the two mages fighting. Where Hadriana had looked calculatingly murderous, Danarius looked harshly entertained at the idea of blood spilt. Hawke was not in the company of kind people at all. She swallowed her first question and formulated a more fitting one.

"What shall I use for a staff? Mine is locked away in the Circle I'm afraid."

Danarius motioned for an off sight slave to step forward. In his hands was a ironbark carved staff. Truly everything Danarius did was outrageously ostentatious. He handed the staff to Hawke. She accepted the gift heavily. She had never held such an expensive weapon before and would not have wanted one from so foul a place. But duty demanded she accept it.

"I believe this will do for your match. You need a more suiting staff as my apprentice of course."

Hawke could only mutter a soft agreement as she delicately held the weapon. Danarius clapped his hands loudly to signal the end of their polite discussion before turning to the matter at hand. "A fight to first blood or until someone passes out and cannot fight anymore. Agreed?" Hadriana gave a soft nod and Hawke mirrored her motion. Danarius chuckled softly, "May the best mage win!" He retreated to the raised dais to oversee the display from relative safety while Hawke and Hadriana sized each other up.

Hawke had to admit a certain level of excitement at the possibility of the fight. An enemy head on was easier for her to rectify with. And a simple fight could do wonders for frustration and pent up stress. She switched her handle on her staff, holding it more balanced between her hands, like her father had taught her long ago. Hadriana watched the exchange with snake like eyes. Fighting to first blood would not be brutal either, Hawke thought. She even chuckled at the thought that Hadriana may beat her to it if she uses blood magic.

"Laugh it up while you can." Came a vicious whisper "I'll wipe the floor with your filthy face, fereldan bitch." Hawke hardly had time to respond before a wave of spirit energy washed over her, pushing her away and trying to rip the staff from her hand. She clenched down hard on her staff and countered with a prison made up of her own spirit energy. Its ephemeral bars flickered to life around their target. Hadriana screeched at their imposing strength before erecting a shield to push them away. Their strengths battled out until Hawke let go in a huff of breath. Surprise flickered across her face at the might the other apprentice could put out. Before Hawke could react, a stone fist was barreling towards her at blinding speed. She ducked away, narrowly missing its barrage and swept a icy blast towards her opponent. Hadriana deftly stepped away from the reaching icicles, slamming the ground with her staff with a dull thud. Hawke felt the reverberations in the ground intensify until she could not hold her footing as the earthquake obliterated her balance. She was forced to her knees and Hawke put a steadying hand out as though to try and will the ground to stop shaking. She looked up as a whistling sound shrieked overhead. She was not fast enough this time and took the earthen fist to the face. Stumbling backwards she forced herself up, feeling a wet substance trickle from her lip. She did not have to check to know what it was. Enough time in back alley fights in Kirkwall taught her what a split lip felt like. First blood. She had lost. Hawke wearily put her staff to her side, defeat tasting sad on her tongue. She should have known a mage from Tevinter would be a whole new kind of beast. Hawke would have to train harder before the next fight. A fireball scorched the air by her face and she flinched from the heat.

A sharp glance towards Hadriana showed a crazed look in the other woman's eye. Hawke appraised her with an outraged and confused glance. She had lost, why was the other mage still fighting.

"Fool!" Yelled the other apprentice "We do not stop fighting until he says to." Hawke shot a glance to the master on the dais. He looked on, making no moves to indicate a finished were expected to keep fighting. Hawke was shot through with anger at this display. They will not even follow their own rules. They would prefer to see her die in this arena and no one would be the wiser, Hawke thought to herself, her vision beginning to tinge red at the peripheries. Her grip on her staff tightened. She would stop this fight if he refused to then.

She moved quickly, mimicking her roguish friend, Isabella. A dart to the left, duck forward. Slide underneath another incoming fist and stop when 20 paces away. Hadriana let fly a string of earthen missiles, certain that she could pummel the smaller woman into the dirt floor.. Hawke merely let them fly past, gaining ground on her assailant in the meanwhile. Hadriana was unaware of the closing distance until Hawke was just close enough to guarantee her aim. She swung her staff forward, a blast of ice forming from the air in front of her. Hadriana was caught in the updraft, too close to dodge again. Her lower body was caught in the ice. Hadriana glared at the other mage.

"This is nothing." She spit out angrily. "I can simply get out of this." Hawke saw the misty air from around the ice as Hadriana tried to burn her way free. Hawke did not give her the chance to though. In a fit of rage at their unfair practises. Their cruelty to others. Her frustration at being stuck in an unforgiving, long, harsh job. Hawke forcibly pressed down two spirit prisons over the other woman's forearms. With a sickening crunch the ice was decimated and Hadriana slumped to the ground. She screamed in agony at the mangled state of her arms. Unable to lift her staff anymore.

Hawke's own arms felt suddenly weak and she dropped her staff with a sudden clatter. She had not meant to do that. She only wanted to end the fight. Her ears held a dull roar as Hawke became keenly aware of the blood seeping from the other mage's arms. Her mind seemed to echo with the other mage's agony. Hawke felt a sick guilt begin to coil in her stomach. Hawke's magic had before been used for questionable things, sure. Her first year in Kirkwall had not been a pretty year. But this? This was cruelty beyond what she had believed Hawke was capable of. Her mind was reeling away from the offending image. Cold seeped down her spine at the thought and Hawke was about to sob when a sharp staccato of sound brought her back.

Danarius was making a slow descent to his apprentices. His hands clapped sardonically at the scene before him. Hawke turned towards her teacher, more of a way to avoid the horrible image she had constructed and less to show deference to her teacher. "Congratulations young one. The Fereldan circle taught you well I see. Perhaps I should spend some time in one." He laughed at his own lame joke. Hawke was too emotionally shot to respond. Hadriana was reduced to soft whimpers from her place on the ground. He sneered at their lack of response. He waved forward his guard. "Escort Hawke back to her rooms, I feel she is in need of an early night."

Hawke was led away from the scene, leaving Danarius and his first apprentice alone in the great hall. Her head pounded from the exertion. Her lip stung and she mindlessly moved a hand to wipe away the blood. It was not until Hawke had put some distance in that she looked around her surroundings again. She was being led by the handsome elf Danarius had shown at the banquet. She admired the graceful way he walked, desperate for a distraction from her cruel actions. His bright blue markings brought Hawke back a little as she remembered her purpose here. She wanted to ask him where they had come from. If they were a derivative of lyrium as she suspected. She opened her mouth to ask.

"I didn't mean to do it." Her soft remark caught them both off guard. The elf looked back at her in question as Hawke's eyes widened at her statement. The slave merely turned away. Hawke took his silence as a denial of her word.

"I mean it. I just wanted her to stop fighting. I had to make her stop." The torrent of words were punctuated by Hawke's uneven breathing. She had to calm down before she made a scene. She figured Varric would have some sound advice about crying in Tevinter over a mage duel but she could not conjure the words for herself.

Fenris continued in silence. He had learned long ago that emotional mages were best not responded to. Better to let them find their own targets of anger than to volunteer oneself to the task. And this mage had shown she was quite capable of channeling her anger into her magic. Fenris may not have been allowed to put into words his feelings when watching Hadriana be defeated by the other mage but he could learn from the display. This one was to be watched and feared as well. All magic was cruel. That was the fact of his life. Her odd behavior after was just another quirk of her makeup. He had to find out as many as he could to better avoid harm from the mages. He knew Danarius and Hadriana well enough by now but this new addition posed a new threat. A silent sob made his ears twitch. Was she crying over Hadriana? He felt a worm of disgust. She would learn too, not to waste tears over people such as them.

Hawke just wanted an ally. She was alone. She was never alone. She had always had someone. And now, faced with the silent back of the imposing elf, that loneliness stuck her like a barb.

Tevinter was proving to be a cruel and unforgiving place indeed. Hawke wanted to reach out to Varric. She had nothing new to report but needed the support of a friendly face at least.

At last, they reached the doors of Hawke's room. She opened the door before the elf could offer for her and slipped inside quietly without a backwards glance. Taking this as a dismissal, Fenris made his way back to his master's side, knowing that is what Danarius expected from him.

Fenris found him sitting in the library at the table Hawke had been using earlier that day. He was skimming over a tome, the one his new apprentice had been reading over, though Fenris could not tell the difference between the ancient tomes. They were heavy useless things to him. Unable to sparse their knowledge onto the elf, they held no interest for him. Danarius did not look up at the elf's entrance.

"So what do you think of our new addition? Pretty young thing isn't she?" Danarius was not actually looking for a response. Fenris had come to terms with being a sound board for the master. It was easier this way, as compared to when the master was looking for Fenris to answer. There were few ways Fenris could anger the magister though his silence. "Who could have ever thought a Fereldan mage, grown up in a blasted Circle, could best a Tevinter mage. My Tevinter mage." Danarius closed the book with a snap. Fenris knew his master well enough to know that he stood on icy ground here. He had to continue with caution. Silence was his best armour here, up until the point when it was very much not.

"Did you notice how she refused to use blood magic?" Danarius finally turned towards his slave. "She will have to change that soon, if she wishes to stay here. Fereldans are barbarians who are both too cruel and too soft. At the same time." Danarius chuckled to himself. "Did you see the way she dispatched Hadriana? That is how those dog lords treat their kind. Though I applaud her for her creativity. I myself have never thought to combine those skills as such." The mage gave Fenris a cruel appraisal. "You are not saying much. What do you think of the new mage?" Shit, Fenris thought. The tide of silence was turning against him. Now, he had to know what Danarius wanted to hear. He had to reply precisely, with the right cadence, the right deference. Or he risked losing his arms to the shattering ice as well.

"She cried on the way to her bedroom." His gravelly voice lilted the few words into the air with a prayer that they were sufficient for the magister.

Danarius nodded sagely at that. "She is still young. Naive. She should embrace that win. Not weep over losers. I can mold her into a great magister with time. But first." Danarius wagged his finger at Fenris. "She must use blood magic." Fenris held no doubts that the new mage would succumb to a demon in order to increase her strength. It was only a matter of time. His clenched at his sides. All mages were the same. If there was a chance for power, they would take it. She was simply another mage to turn into a magister..


End file.
